Meet Cute
by LilinasWrites
Summary: Installment 2 of the Sebastian's Bitch 'verse. This is the story of how Kurt and Sebastian met and ended up in their weird and wonderful relationship.
1. Chapter One

It was definitely not a gay bar.

Kurt realized his mistake the moment he walked through the door, even before his eyes managed to adjust enough to register that every couple in the place consisted of one man and one woman. He didn't need his eyes. There was an immediate feeling, a pitch to the voices, an unmistakable sensation of not-what-he'd-expected that hit before the door even latched behind him. He should have simply turned and left, but pride and not wanting to look like an idiot who hadn't bothered to read the whole Yelp review led him to the long, shining bar where he now sat, alone, sipping the pale pink concoction the heavily-pierced bartender had given him. At least, he thought, it was a scene bar. And scene people tended to be tolerant so he was fairly sure no one would mind him enjoying some of the male scenery while he drank and pretended he'd meant to come here all along.

It was the name that had led him astray. How in the world anyone could name a club _Rump_ elstiltskin and not expect people to assume it catered to the ass-fucking crowd, was beyond his power to understand. A criminal level of false advertising, really. It was such a shame too because the place was perfect in every other way. Punk bartender aside, it looked more like the library of an old-fashioned gentleman's club than a BDSM bar. Worn leather armchairs dotted the room, interspersed with overstuffed divans and low, polished tables. There was a dance floor but the music was quiet and dreamy; it leant a fantasy quality to the low-key displays of submission and dominance between the patrons. Here and there around the room submissives knelt, some leashed, some serving their dominants in one way or another, but everyone was fully dressed and, some dance-floor grinding and enthusiastic making out aside, nothing explicitly sexual was going on. It was exactly the kind of club Kurt had been looking for. Compared to some of the places he'd been . . . Kurt shook his head and had to suppress a shudder. The less he thought about those experiences the better. It was just his luck that when he finally found a place like this – a place where he could sit and talk and take the time to find just the kind of dominant he needed – it turned out to be a place where no one would be interested in the kind of submission he had to offer.

Well, at least there was eye candy. Some of the male subs had beautiful bodies and he could almost imagine himself in their places, despite the women who held the ends of their leashes. If he was being perfectly honest, pretty much any display of dominance could make Kurt's belly stir with desire. It had been far too long since he'd been dominated properly. Oh, who was he kidding? He'd never been dominated properly. Not the way he fantasized about. The way he craved. And he wasn't going to find it in a place like this, no matter how gay the name was. He signed and turned back to the bar, but before he could put the room fully behind him his eye caught and lingered on a newcomer, just stripping off his jacket and handing it to the coat check girl.

Kurt's drink was very strong. That was definitely the reason he heard himself give a little whimper when the jacket dropped away from broad shoulders, a long, long torso, and an outright luscious ass wrapped in tight, mildly distressed denim. Luscious _straight_ ass, Kurt reminded himself as he pressed his lips to the rim of his glass to keep himself from making any more involuntary noises. Damn you, irresponsible namers of not-gay bars. Damn you.

It only got harder when the guy turned around and began to make his way into the room. Oh, he was handsome. His legs and neck were just as long as his body and made Kurt wonder if his other parts followed suit. His hair was coiffed in that casual, combed up way that Kurt knew from experience only comes with careful effort. His jeans clung to those long legs so that even from across the room Kurt could see the play of muscle underneath them as he walked. But more than all of this it was his manner that made Kurt's fingers curl tight around the stem of his cocktail glass. As soon as he stepped away from the coat check it was clear he was a dominant, and not the kind who had to telegraph his status far and wide. No, it was in the way he carried himself, like he knew exactly who he was and expected everyone around him to acknowledge it. Watching him, Kurt would have been happy to have acknowledged it. Preferably from his knees.

No. No. Straight dom, Kurt told himself. But he swiveled on his stool to keep Long and Lean in sight as he moved farther into the room.

The first person to acknowledge the newcomer was a young female dominant who almost ran to him when she caught his eye and flung her arms around him in a hug, which he returned with a grin. The submissive trailing behind her with his hands clasped behind his back stood silently as they greeted each other, but when they pulled away the dreamboat smiled at him as well, and said something that made the submissive blush and bow his head even further.

Kurt whimpered again.

He watched as the dreamboat, obviously a regular, worked the room. He greeted one person after another, lingering with some for longer conversation, but always moving on to the next group. He was popular, Kurt could tell that. Everyone seemed happy to see him, dom and sub alike. Doms were greeted with fist bumps or hugs, and submissives with warm authority and casual little touches that stirred up longing in Kurt's belly. God, he needed to find someone to take a strap to him ASAP. It was pathetic, sitting here reduced to creeping on a straight guy, flushing with desire just from watching him ruffle the hair of a kneeling sub. And yet he couldn't help himself. He watched those long legs carry the man attached to them from group to group, until despite his tiny sips he found himself staring at the bottom of his empty glass. He turned back to the bar with a little sigh.

The bartender headed his way and raised an eyebrow to ask if he wanted a refill, but Kurt shook his head. "I'm good," he said. He fished out his wallet and pushed a bill across the bar. Creeping through one drink was pathetic, two would be outright self-abuse. He needed to go home. On the way he could decide if it would be wrong to masturbate to the idea of being forced to hump one of those long legs until he was aching with need and begging to come. He was already ninety percent sure he was going to decided that it was perfectly okay.

The bartender brought his change and Kurt slipped it into his wallet.

"Dude! About time you got over here! I was starting to worry you'd gone designated driver tonight."

Kurt looked up from his wallet to find the bartender grinning, his piercings glinting with reflected light. And from the corner of his eye he could see his future masturbatory fantasy standing two barstools away, holding out a fist for yet another bump. He felt himself flush red and turned away, hiding behind the act of shoving his wallet into his pocket.

"Fuck that!" the dreamboat said. "I know what kinds of scotch you've got back there. It's half the reason I come here."

His voice was higher than Kurt would have expected. Light and unaffected, not intentionally rough like so many dominants. He liked it. No! He didn't like it. He was leaving. Now. He slid off his barstool.

"So, the usual?" the bartender asked. He sounded hopeful, which was strange, and caused Kurt to linger to see what was up.

The dreamboat must have nodded because the bartender turned and reached for a bottle that even Kurt knew was outrageously expensive. No wonder he'd been afraid the dreamboat wasn't drinking. The tip alone . . .

Kurt watched, almost hypnotized, as the bartender poured amber liquid into a crystal rocks glass. But the clink of the tumbler hitting the bar in front of the dreamboat snapped him out of his spell. Leaving. That's right. He was leaving. He wasn't going to sit here and hope that they might smile at each other, maybe have a little chat. He was gay, the dreamboat was straight, and he was leaving. Except the dreamboat was still talking.

"And one of whatever stereotypically fruity concoction this one is having."


	2. Chapter Two

Kurt froze, his back to Mr. Not-Quite-So-Dreamy-Anymore. His face flushed hot but icy cold spiked his belly. His hands began to tremble with equal parts anxiety and anger. And despite all of this there was still a corner of his brain that had the space to wonder and despair at the fact that one casual taunt could still reduce him to a terrified high school sophomore.

It was because of the place; that had to be it. He just didn't expect that kind of homophobic attitude in a scene bar. It caught him by surprise.

While he tried to choose between flight and fight, the bartender drifted into his line of sight holding a glass and a questioning expression. Like this was just another patron buying a drink for someone situation. Like there was nothing to object to. Infuriating, but the lack of aggression in his stance gave Kurt the space he needed to remember who he was.

Kurt fucking Hummel, that's who.

"This is so exciting!" he faked enthusiasm as he spun around to face the man who suddenly looked much more weasel-y than handsome. "I've never met anyone who was raised by wild dogs before!"

Weasel-face managed to look confused without losing his smirk.

Kurt dropped his act. "Well it's the only reason I can think of that you'd think a comment like that is remotely acceptable."

Understanding dawned on the not-at-all handsome features. "Oh, come on. Tell me it's _not_ a stereotypically fruity drink and I'll take it back."

"That's not the –"

"I'd guess appletini."

"Well you'd be wrong. Not that that matters," Kurt sputtered.

The guy just raised an eyebrow and waited.

 _Turn around_ , Kurt told himself. _Leave._ But his feet didn't want to obey him. Neither, apparently, did his mouth. "It's a cosmo," he said. He still had enough control over his mouth to mutter it aggressively, at least. Small consolation.

Especially when the man laughed out loud. "Like that's any less gay," he said loud enough for everyone at the bar to hear.

Kurt's hand slapped hard on the polished wood. "No, what's gay, in case it escaped your virtuoso powers of observation, is _you_ offering to buy _me_ a drink!"

He didn't recoil like Kurt had hoped he would. He didn't react at all. He just kept laughing, this time turning to the bartender who was still hovering near them. "Well he's got me there, Phil."

The bartender – Phil – nodded. "That is pretty gay, dude."

Pointy-nose turned back to Kurt. "In fact," he said, still speaking loudly enough to be heard by everyone, "on the list of things that are gay that I have done, I'd say _me_ buying _you_ a drink falls somewhere above checking out another guy's ass, but definitely well below actually fucking men."

Kurt had always thought the idea of a jaw dropping was pure hyperbole. He was wrong.

Somewhere someone laughed out loud, but he was too busy staring at weasel-face, no wait, _gay_ weasel-face, to see who it was.

The smirk widened and flashed back at the bartender. "And now he understands."

Phil nodded.

"You're gay?" Kurt asked, stupidly.

"What was that about virtuoso powers of observation?"

"But you're . . . here." Kurt managed to move an arm to indicate the club.

"You're here," Possibly-Dreamy-Again-But-The-Jury-Was-Still-Out pointed out.

"I made a . . ." Kurt clamped his mouth closed. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was admit to another fault in his powers of observation.

Too late. Marginally-Dreamy nodded sympathetically. "It was the name wasn't it? It's always the name."

Kurt needed to sit. Luckily there was a barstool right there. And when he climbed onto it there was also a pale pink cocktail sitting on the bar in front of him. He didn't remember agreeing to the drink. He made his own questioning eyebrows at Phil, who only shrugged and tossed his head in Dreamy's direction.

Dreamy was still talking. "At least a couple of times a week some poor confused twink wanders in here looking for the rumps."

"Hey!" Kurt bristled.

"Oh calm down, Princess. I'm merely stating a fact. I was in no way implying that you yourself are a twink."

He sounded suspiciously patronizing. But it was starting to sink into Kurt's tossed and tumbled brain that the hot straight dominant whose every move had made him salivate with desire was actually the hot gay dominant who wanted to buy him a drink. Well, nothing ventured, nothing spanked. He picked up the cocktail glass and took a swig.

Dreamy Gay grinned like he'd won. Kurt had to admit he probably had.

"I'm Sebastian," he said, holding out a hand.

Of course he was Sebastian. He could only be Sebastian. The perfect Victorian-erotica-turned-prep-school-valedictorian name. "Kurt," Kurt said.

They shook. Sebastian's hand was warm and soft and just the right size and his fingers curled around Kurt's palm like a cage, capturing it, and Jesus how strong was that cosmo, anyhow? Kurt pulled back too fast, like he'd been shocked.

"So do you buy a drink for every poor confused homosexual who ends up here?" he asked, trying to be casual.

Sebastian shook his head. "No." He raised his scotch to his lips and his eyes twinkled at Kurt over the rim of the glass.

Kurt abandoned subtlety. He was still too addled to play coy. "Why me then?"

Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I guess I got tired of waiting for you to stop staring at me and come introduce yourself."

Fuck. He'd noticed. Kurt felt himself flush again. "Excuse me!" Indignation was always a good offense. "It's not a gay club. Maybe you grew up in gay Narnia or something but where I come from, coming on to a straight guy is a very, very bad idea."

For the first time, Sebastian's smile looked a tiny, tiny bit abashed. "I did figure that out eventually. Hence the drink."

Kurt had been all prepared for another attack. Sebastian's admission left him with nothing to say. He sipped at his drink and tried not to squirm under the dominant's dark-eyed scrutiny. "So why do you come here then?" he asked, trying to throw the ball back into Sebastian's field, or whatever it was the Finn always used to say. "You're obviously a regular."

"You notice that, huh?"

"Virtuoso powers of observation."

Sebastian acknowledged that with another sly smile. "Well, for a guy like me, this place is heaven."

"What?" Kurt had to stop his jaw from dropping again.

"You may not be aware of this, but it's a foundational fantasy of most straight male submissives to be forced to service another man."

"Really?" Kurt was skeptical. That sounded much too much like porn to be true.

"Mmm-hmmm," Sebastian nodded wisely. "For a dominant like me, a dominant who likes getting his dick sucked by another guy I mean . . . well, it's practically a cottage industry."

Kurt gave up and let his jaw go. "So you come here and just let a bunch of submissives . . ." he couldn't quite finish the thought. Mostly because, eww. At least that's what he told himself. It had nothing to do with hating the very idea of a bunch of straight subs getting to kneel at this particular dominant's feet and worship his cock.

"I'm performing a service to the community. Although I will admit a back-room blow job with no strings attached is nothing to sneeze at."

"So that's what you're looking for? No strings?" It was out before Kurt could stop it. But maybe just as well. He wanted strings. All the strings. If Sebastian didn't then maybe he needed to finish his drink and move on.

Sebastian evaluated Kurt like he was trying to figure out what the right next move might be. "I didn't say that. I just said I could enjoy the lack of them."

"Well I'm surprised I was interesting enough to drag you away from your smorgasbord of orgasmic possibilities," Kurt said. He hoped he didn't sound envious, but he was pretty sure he did.

"It does seem unlikely, on the surface, doesn't it?" Sebastian teased. But before Kurt could bristle he went on, "But it turns out you're extremely interesting."

"I am?" Okay, not the smoothest thing Kurt had ever said.

"Mmmm," Sebastian hummed again, and paused dramatically to sweep his eyes up and down Kurt's form. "You're obviously submissive, but you've got a mouth on you like no sub I've ever met. I can tell you want me, but you're not even trying to impress me. And then there's the fact that you bit my head off for implying you were a twink, but had absolutely no reaction at all to me calling you Princess."

Kurt didn't even know where to start to respond to any of that. His heart was beating too fast and his brain was stuck on _I know you want me_. It was his ball now, he knew, or his field, whatever they said, and he had no idea what to do with it. It certainly sounded like he was being offered the opportunity to explore . . . things . . . with strings . . . with the dreamiest dom he'd come across in a long time. But that couldn't be right, could it?

Sebastian mistook his silence. "You should check out Rank and File," he finally said, too casually. "That place is as gay as they come."

"I went there once," Kurt admitted.

"And?"

"And I felt like Bugs Bunny at an Elmer Fudd convention."

Sebastian laughed loud again. Kurt found that he liked Sebastian's laugh, when it wasn't directed _at_ him.

"I can't decide which of those comparisons is more apropos," Sebastian said.

"You'll have to wait till you know me better to decide that," Kurt returned. Then he blushed again when he realized what he'd just said. He dipped his head to hide in his drink. And maybe to look just the teeniest, tiniest bit submissive.

"Well you should take it as a compliment," Sebastian said. "After all, submissives are a dime a dozen. If that many doms were pointing their . . . guns . . . in your direction," he grinned at his joke, "then you must be something special."

Heat rose in Kurt's face again. How did Sebastian keep doing that? He tried to cover it by ignoring the compliment. "A dime a dozen?" he said, severely as he could. But his breathy tone surely gave him away.

"Oh come on. You and I both know there are at least twenty submissives out there for every dominant. And it's probably worse if you're gay."

"I don't care how many there are. I'm . . ." Kurt stopped himself before he could blurt out something very not submissive, especially after what Sebastian had said about his mouth.

But Sebastian grinned at him. "Go ahead. Say it."

Kurt tossed his head. "I'm one of kind," he said defiantly.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. He stared at Kurt for a long moment, then slipped off his stool. But before Kurt had time to fear he'd scared him off, he tossed off a smile that was as challenging as Kurt had been confrontational.

"Well in that case, I think we'd better find someplace more private to talk, don't you?"


	3. Chapter Three

As he followed Sebastian across the club Kurt wondered if this was how it felt to be a celebrity. He was sure that heads were turning in their direction, following their progress through the room. Not obviously, people were trying to be subtle and cool about it, but there was no doubt their passing caused a stir. He could feel it ripple out behind them, not quite a noise but more like the potential for it. A kind of subsonic whispering that he was picking up in prickles under his skin.

People were staring at them.

His first reaction was alarm because of course, gay men, moving together to a private, shadowed corner – life had taught him that when straight people specifically noticed him it was to express disgust, if he was lucky, much worse if he wasn't. But Sebastian seemed not bothered by it at all and then Kurt remembered that these people were his – he wasn't sure _friends_ was quite the right word, frequent sex partners perhaps – and so they were well aware of his orientation. That and more. To hear Sebastian tell it, many of them had benefited from that very homosexuality. Which left a much more pleasant but harder to believe conclusion.

Sebastian must have been telling the truth about not coming on to every stray gay who wandered into Rumpelstiltskin. Him bringing someone to a quiet table in the back of the room must be unusual enough that people whispered and craned their necks to see who the lucky submissive was. Kurt straightened his shoulders and held his head higher as they went. The last thing he wanted to do was to give the impression that he was some meek and mild sub boi ready to fall in with Sebastian's every whim. He wasn't the lucky one, he told himself firmly. Sebastian was. Or would be if Kurt chose to bestow himself. No, there was nothing desperate about Kurt Hummel. And if that was a lie, well, no one was going to know it but him.

There were little alcoves in the back of the club – far enough from the music and buzz of conversation to create quiet, semi-private spaces. Most were empty, Kurt supposed that was because the night was still young. In the occupied one they passed, a tiny dom with long blonde hair was whispering to her huge submissive. Even with him on his knees she didn't have to stoop to reach his ear. Kurt couldn't help imagining what they would look like when he stood up. It or his nerves made him giggle, and Sebastian caught the sound and glanced back at him.

"Don't laugh," he said. "She's fucking vicious. You can't imagine what she can do to a pair of low-hangers."

Kurt _could_ imagine, and his current dry spell had been long enough that imagining made him flush hot again. It was probably pointless to hope that Sebastian hadn't noticed. Lovely. So much for not being desperate. Now he looked needy enough to get turned on by mere proximity to a dominant. A female dominant.

Sebastian steered them to an alcove a safe distance from the other couple. He sat in the leather wing-back, leaving the divan for Kurt. Kurt appreciated the gesture. It was unexpectedly thoughtful of Sebastian to leave some distance between them as they entered into . . . whatever this was going to turn out to be. He was letting Kurt know that for now they were talking. Just talking.

Kurt sat on the chintz upholstered sofa – it was more comfortable than it looked – and, after a quick but fruitless scouting for coasters, put his cocktail glass on the low table. Sebastian still held his whiskey and sipped at it, watching Kurt over the rim of the glass.

"I like this place," Kurt said, just to have something to say. Better to speak first and not look like he was waiting for Sebastian to proposition him. "Too bad it's not gay."

"Gay enough for me," Sebastian said with a smirk. Kurt wouldn't have admitted it for anything, but the smirk left him breathless.

"Yes, you've already made that point. Eloquently," Kurt said, letting sarcasm drip into his voice. He was so much more comfortable when he was on the attack, counter-intuitive as that was in his present situation. "But I can't imagine the doms here just let you go to town on their subs. What do you do when you want . . . more? Rank and File?"

"God, no!" Sebastian grimaced. "I hate that place. Not for the same reason you do, obviously."

"Then why?"

Sebastian considered. "I don't much like rules."

Kurt's astonishment must have shown because Sebastian's mouth bloomed into a wicked grin. "Oh, don't get me wrong, sweetheart. I like _making_ rules just fine. And I _love_ enforcing rules," he stressed the words like he could see how much they affected Kurt, which he probably could. "I'm just not big on following rules. Even my own, really. The last regular sub I had was always complaining about how I'd change the rules and forget to tell him and then punish him for not following the new rules. It wasn't fair, he said. I wasn't being 'clear about my expectations.'" His long fingers drew contemptuous air quotes around the words. "He couldn't seem to understand the simple concept that _I_ decide what's fair or not. That's one of the reasons he's no longer my sub."

Sebastian watched Kurt closely as he talked. He must have seen whatever he wanted to see – a good trick because Kurt himself had no idea what the turmoil he felt inside signified. But Sebastian sat back with a satisfied air and took another sip of his drink, while Kurt's insides waged a battle between _that is deeply wrong_ and _oh dear God please yes._

"Now a place like Rank and File . . . God, so many rules. And not just for the subs. I get it, I do, but that doesn't mean I want to participate in it. I'm only interested in arbitrary hierarchies if they consist of just two people and I'm at the top."

Kurt had to absolutely forbid his hand to tremble as he reached for his drink. He took a much bigger swig than he probably should have, considering he was trying to _keep_ his composure, not lose it. Maybe his submission-starved subconscious had decided to overthrow his reason and take the reins. That certainly seemed to be the outcome Sebastian was goading.

"But we didn't come over here to talk about leather daddies, did we?" Sebastian asked, casually, like he had no idea of the havoc he was wreaking on Kurt's mind and body.

"Didn't we?" Kurt asked. At least he kept his voice steady.

Sebastian ignored Kurt's attempt at evasion. "You said you're one of a kind. Was that hubris or experience?"

Kurt licked his lips and watched Sebastian take another sip of whiskey. He caught a glimpse of Sebastian's tongue, distorted by the thick glass. "Maybe a little of both?" he admitted.

"I like that. It's honest. I always demand total honesty." Sebastian's eyes bore into Kurt's. He was on it how, making his pitch. He leaned forward, closer, until Kurt felt pinned in his seat. "So what are you looking for?"

"What do you mean?" Kurt's voice wasn't quite as steady this time.

"You went to Rank and File. You came here. You got all defensive when I talked about no strings. Which begs the question, what kind of strings do you want, exactly?"

There was a tone of command in Sebastian's voice and Kurt's body reacted to it exactly as he was sure Sebastian intended. He was also sure Sebastian didn't miss the way he had to shift on the sofa to relieve the pressure in his pants.

"I want . . ." but he bit down on the words. Sebastian had already said he wasn't acting submissive, and although he wasn't sure what he wanted from Sebastian yet, he was certain he didn't want to end whatever this was quite so soon.

"What?" Sebastian asked.

"I don't know. I'm not sure what I was going to say."

"Oh, see, now we have a problem Kurt. " Sebastian sounded disappointed but his eyes looked sharply eager. "Didn't I just say I demand honesty?"

"You did," Kurt breathed, before he could stop himself. Like he was already under Sebastian's command. He tried to tell his body to calm the fuck down, but his body had stopped listening to anyone but Sebastian.

"You know exactly what you were going to say. You just don't want to say it because it's not even close to submissive and you don't want to scare me off." He shrugged. "I already said you were mouthy and not trying to impress me. Yet here we sit. So why stop now?"

"Fine," Kurt said. "I want a dominant who deserves me." It sounded too defensive, so he tossed his head to give it weight.

"Now was that so hard?" Sebastian asked. He was smirking again, because he'd won another round. Kurt wanted to point out that he was being insufferably condescending but he was too busy trying to get his dick to settle down to actually form words. How could one random dominant be so certain what was going on inside his head?

"No," Kurt murmured obediently instead. He had to bite off a _sir._ He wanted to say sir. He was beginning to suspect that he was seriously fucked. Either that or about to have all his dreams come true. Which might amount to the same thing.

"So who would deserve you, then?" Sebastian asked. "What are you looking for?" He made it sound different this time; a specific question demanding a specific answer.

There were so many things Kurt could have said. And so many things he wasn't sure he wanted to say. His fantasies were dark and deep, deeper and darker than he'd even let himself fully explore. How could he just lay them out in the cold light of day (or the dim light of this bar) for a total stranger to peruse and comment on? Did he even want to take that trip down into the caverns of his desires? And if, as he was starting to suspect, Sebastian was the kind of dominant who could give him even half of what he longed for – was that something he wanted to run toward or retreat from at full panic speed?

Unfortunately, Kurt's mouth was fully on the side of his subconscious. Before he'd even finished his thought he realized that he'd already spoken.

"No one ever pushes me."


	4. Chapter Four

"Ah-ha! Now we're getting somewhere."

If Kurt's accidental admission had left him keyed up and off-balance, it had the opposite effect on Sebastian. He relaxed back into his chair, stretched out his long legs and propped his feet on the coffee table like he was settling into his own living room. The fact that the shoes were expensive Italian leather didn't keep Kurt from shuddering at the sight of his heels resting on the polished wood.

"We are?" he asked, abandoning pretense. There didn't seem to be any point in trying to act cool. If they were moving in _that_ direction Kurt figured he'd better be very much himself.

Sebastian nodded and took another slow sip of his drink. He drew it out deliberately, playing with Kurt's nerves. Everything about him shouted dominant slipping into his comfort zone and Kurt's body responded eagerly. He found himself moving to the very edge of the couch, positioned to fall onto his knees at any moment. He forced himself to lean back again, trying to match Sebastian's casual nonchalance.

If Sebastian noticed his internal struggle, he didn't react to it. "Why do you think that is?" he asked. "Why doesn't anyone push you?"

"I don't know," Kurt replied.

"I don't think that's strictly true. I think you do know. You just either haven't accepted it, or you don't want me to have that much information about you. We've already established," he went on, not pausing, like he already knew Kurt wasn't going to answer, "that you don't exactly walk around screaming submissive who wants to be pushed. So what is it?" This time he gave Kurt time, sipping at his whiskey while Kurt kept his lips pressed tight together. There were so many things he could say, but he had no idea which of them he wanted to reveal to Sebastian.

"When you say _pushed_ , maybe what you really mean is _forced._ "

"No!" Kurt's denial was swift and instinctive.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow that clearly questioned whether it was too swift.

"I don't," Kurt insisted. "That's not what I want."

"Then what?"

Dark eyes pinned Kurt, demanding answers, and suddenly it was all too overwhelming and too close to things Kurt had only fantasized about. Not force, that wasn't it, but Sebastian was pushing and even though that was exactly what Kurt had said he'd wanted, it was different now with an actual dominant giving him that look and offering possibilities. He pushed to his feet too fast and tottered as his head swam – how strong was that drink? He had to reach out for the arm of the couch to steady himself. "This was probably a bad idea," he stammered as he waited for his head to clear. "I should just go . . ."

"Kurt."

It wasn't loud but it snapped with command and it sounded so _good_ coming out of Sebastian's mouth, the T clipping hard at the end. Kurt's head swung toward Sebastian before he could stop it.

"Sit."

Kurt sat. He must have looked as startled as he felt because Sebastian relaxed again and smiled with a warmth Kurt hadn't seen from him yet.

"Try to relax, okay. Nothing's happening tonight. We've both been drinking. But if something did happened between us eventually, well, you're going to be trusting me with a whole lot more than your thoughts, right?"

Kurt felt himself nod.

"So why not just tell me? And then at least if you decide to walk away you'll know you gave it a shot."

Kurt stared at Sebastian for a long moment. Sebastian just kept smiling in that new and reassuring way. He was right, of course. They were only talking. Nothing had to happen. Not unless they both wanted it.

"I _don't_ want to be forced," Kurt said at last. "That's not what it's about."

"What is it about?"

"It's hard to put it into words."

"Try."

Kurt tried. "I'm . . . who I am. This is me. All of it. All my life people have been telling me I have to change and I never would. And I won't now. I know I'm not exactly every dominant's fantasy submissive. Most of the men I've been don't even begin to understand me. They either tiptoe around me like I'm going to bite their heads off –"

"I can't imagine why."

Kurt ignored Sebastian's interruption. ". . . or jump to the same conclusion you did and go all KGB agent on me. I've never met anyone who could see my inside under my outside." He tossed his head at Sebastian. "That's the dominant who'll deserve me. The one who can see me. Because I'm not going change who I am for anything. Certainly not for sex. Maybe it doesn't make any sense or maybe I'm asking too much. But I just want someone who can see what I have to offer."

Sebastian was still smiling but the intent behind it shifted. The warmth faded, replaced by a kind of predatory excitement that made Kurt's heartbeat pick up pace. "So you want someone who can appreciate the bitch face, but who won't let it stop him from making you _his_ bitch and taking you down until you're groveling on your belly kissing his feet."

The breath froze in Kurt's chest and he couldn't have spoken if he'd tried.

Luckily it seemed that Sebastian didn't expect him to speak. His grin had gone completely feral. "Okay," he said, drawing it out into a purr. "Let's play."

"What does that mean?" Kurt found enough breath to ask. Sebastian couldn't have missed the way the words trembled.

Sebastian pulled his legs down off the coffee table and in one sinuous move slipped out of his chair and onto the divan next to Kurt, so close Kurt could smell the subtle musk of his cologne. It was nice. It made him light-headed. Or maybe that was because he was breathing much faster than he should be. He tried to force himself to slow down while he wondered if Sebastian was going to touch him – and whether he wanted him to or not.

Sebastian didn't. "It means I think we should get to know each other better."

This close, Kurt could almost see the color of Sebastian's eyes – a kind of hazel green he thought. He cleared his throat and when his spoke his voice was steadier than it had been before. "So is this the part where you ask me all my darkest fantasies?"

"God no! Why would I do that? Figuring out all the terrible things you're afraid to admit to and then making you beg for them is half the fun."

With that picture in his mind and his traitorous cock twitching happily, Kurt's voice had no chance. "Only half?" he asked. He was going for glib, but he got something that sounded right in the middle between terrified and aroused. Which was fitting, he had to admit. "What's the other half?"

"Having your body at my disposal to fuck when I want, where I want, how I want, and as often as I want." Sebastian tossed it off with none of Kurt's breathless tremors.

Sebastian was giving him the full press now, going one hundred percent dom, looking at Kurt like he was imagining even now the various ways he could make use of Kurt's body. And Kurt liked it. He felt a sudden overwhelming desire to lean forward and run his tongue across Sebastian's full bottom lip, just to taste it. That was the alcohol talking, he was sure, but he was reaching the point where he didn't care.

But Sebastian was still talking. Kurt dragged his attention away from lips and back to words.

". . . every kink known to man and taking all the mystery out of it, but I told you I'm not good with rules. I mean, safeword, of course, and I'll definitely want to know your hard limits before we do anything serious, but honestly, I have no interest in knowing what you want."

"What?" Kurt's brain was still trying to catch up.

"I'm not like most dominants. I think you get that or you wouldn't still be sitting here. I don't negotiate with submissives. So the way this goes is, I tell you what I want and then you get to decide whether you think you can provide what I want." He leaned closer, putting those lips in tantalizing range, and raised his eyebrow again. "And believe me when I say that if you do choose to go down this road with me, it'll be the last choice I ever give you."

Something inside Kurt split open at those words, like a seed breaking its casing and falling to fertile ground. Sebastian's words were just like all of Kurt's darkest fantasies: they set off alarm bells in his higher brain but made his pleasure centers sing with excitement. He ran his fingers over the fabric of the couch and tried to pull all the parts together.

"So what you're saying is that you'll be the one to reveal your darkest fantasies, and then I can walk away without telling you anything," Kurt said.

"You've already told me everything that counts. But yeah. Considering all the things you'll be giving up to me, I think it's only fair that I put myself out there first. See, you're not the only one who's one of a kind."

Kurt knew whatever courage he was feeling came from the alcohol but he didn't even care. He wanted to hear Sebastian's fantasies. He inclined his head, graciously, he hoped. "Okay. I'll play. Tell me your darkest fantasy."

Sebastian laughed. Kurt liked his laugh. It was clean and unforced. It was also strange to hear the laughter clinging to his voice when he said, "I want a slave."

It hit Kurt hard, in the center of his chest, and he was rendered speechless yet again. Thankfully Sebastian didn't seem to mind. "That's it," he went on. "Bottom line, I want someone who will submit himself to me in every possible way. Someone who'll spend every free moment at my apartment, naked, usually in some kind of bondage, doing absolutely anything I tell him to do. He'll cook, clean, obviously serve me sexually. I'm a sadist, so there'll be plenty of torture. Rules will be strict, and the slightest violation severely punished. Every day will be a struggle to please me just so he'll be allowed to serve me again the next day. And he never, ever comes."

"God, stop, please," Kurt held up a hand as if to ward off Sebastian's words. It was overwhelming and Sebastian was so close, looming over him, and Kurt's dick was pressing so hard against his pants that it was starting to hurt. "I just need a minute. You don't mince words, do you?"

"You asked for my darkest fantasy," Sebastian said. He put an arm along the back of the couch, enhancing Kurt's feeling of being surrounded by his body.

"He never comes?" It was hard to force the words out.

"I'm not one of those doms who believes in rewarding subs with orgasms. You're there to please me. You only come if for some reason it'll give me pleasure to let you. Did I mention that I'm a sadist? Ninety-nine percent of the time it's _not_ letting you come that gives me the pleasure. If you're not into strict, relentless chastity, I am not the dom for you."

Kurt didn't miss the pronoun change from _him_ to _you_. Neither did his dick.

"Your cock will go in a cage and only come out when I want to play with it. I will hurt it in every way you can imagine and some you haven't even dreamed of. And then I'll tease it for hours while you beg me for mercy. I never get tired of hearing a sub beg. Your balls will pretty much never stop aching."

Kurt wanted to be appalled. He so wanted to be. But there was no room for appalled inside of him. Too many other emotions were jostling for space where appalled should be and none of them were helping him figure out how to breathe.

Sebastian just looked at him and smiled like he had no idea what havoc he was wreaking. It was a good act, but Kurt was sure he knew exactly what he was doing. He was sure Sebastian always knew exactly what he was doing.

"Still want to play?" Sebastian asked with a smirk.

Speaking was not a thing Kurt was going to be doing.

Sebastian didn't seem fazed by that at all. Still smirking in that knowing way he dug into his pocket and pulled out a card. He set it on the table next to Kurt's drink.

"That's my number. So it's all up to you now." He stood up and Kurt had to suppress the urge to reach for him and pull him back down. "Go home. Think about what I said. Jerk off. And if you come harder than you've ever come before, call me."

And then he was gone, like a vanishing magician.

Kurt stared at the white card on the dark wood of the table and waited for his dick to calm down so he could walk across the bar with a little dignity. In the end, though, dignity proved unattainable. He walked back past all of Rumpelstiltskin's straight patrons with a hard-as-nails cock trapped in his pants and a little white card clutched in his fist.


	5. Chapter Five

Sebastian was vibrating with excitement. Literally. Every time he lifted his beer to take a swig the bottle, backlit by the television he was pretending to watch, trembled like a leaf about to take its death plunge to the ground. He didn't even try to control it. There wasn't anyone to see him. It was still early enough for a Saturday night that it felt weird to be home so early, but after all he'd been through the last thing he wanted was noise and people.

Since the moment he'd let the door of Rumpelstiltskin close behind him and flagged down a cab he'd been hosting a raging debate with himself about whether he'd made the smartest move ever or been a total fucking idiot. The jury was still out. Walking away from the most interesting, challenging submissive he'd met in – well, maybe ever – without any way of ever finding him again certainly seemed like height of stupidity. But it had _felt_ right, and Sebastian loved nothing more than abandoning sense and reason and operating on instinct alone. It was an amazing rush, and Sebastian was an avowed adrenaline junkie.

One more swig finished his beer and Sebastian set it on his coffee table and stared blindly at the sports stats scrolling across his muted television screen.

His name was Kurt. That and the fact that he could throw an epic bitch face were literally all Sebastian knew about the man who'd managed to knock him off his feet tonight. God, it was ages since he'd had so much fun doing the figuring-each-other-out dance. Kurt had been all prickles and defense, zigging whenever Sebastian zagged and doing everything he could to hide his need and desperation. But Sebastian could _feel_ it, from the first moment he'd noticed Kurt staring. And the longer they talked the more Sebastian began to suspect that the depth of Kurt's desire was directly proportional to the effort he put into hiding it.

Sebastian took a deep breath and let himself think the thing he'd been trying not to think since Kurt had invited him to spell out his darkest fantasy then practically exploded when he did.

He could be the one.

Sebastian had always been dominant. Always. From cops and robbers when he was six to movies that had any hint of bondage to his first forays into the wide world of Internet porn, it had always been crystal clear what he responded to. Of course, it wasn't until the porn stage that he fully understood the things he'd felt as a child when he tied Jimmy Mason to a tree or slapped his toy handcuffs on Adrian Singmaster. In fact, looking back he was pretty sure Adrian was as much of a budding submissive as he himself was a dominant – that little shit somehow always managed to get captured first, and early, so he spent the longest time of any of his playmates cuffed and locked in whatever jail they'd created for the game.

Sebastian's sex life, once he had one, had quickly graduated from vanilla to kinky. And he'd grown over the years, experimenting and expanding. There was no self-serving hyperbole in calling himself an experienced and imaginative dominant. But as much fun as he had with the many men he'd played with, Sebastian was still waiting for that one submissive – and he'd almost swallowed his teeth when Kurt had said it about himself – who would truly deserve him and his most extreme fantasies. Oh, there were hundreds upon hundreds of desperate submissives just in New York alone who would have happily crawled for him. He hadn't been kidding about dominants being in short supply and as a young, hot, gay top he could really have his pick. But Sebastian loved a challenge. He didn't want someone who would lay out all his fantasies and wait breathlessly for Sebastian to fulfill them. He wanted someone who would test him as much as he tested them. He wanted someone worthy of the imagination and effort he put into them.

Needless to say, that was not a kind of person he encountered every day. Or, in his experience, ever.

And then tonight Kurt, watching him. Sebastian had almost dismissed him. From a distance he'd looked fragile, one of those types who'd start sobbing and safewording if you took one tiny step beyond a soft limit. But once Sebastian got close enough to really see, it was obvious that there was some serious iron underneath that deceptive exterior. He'd given nothing away. He'd made Sebastian work for every concession and Sebastian had rarely felt so electrically alive as he had feeling Kurt out and looking for his openings; deciding when to hang back and when to push in hard. It had felt like walking a tightrope a thousand feet high as he tested the ground, moving forward then retreating until he found his opportunity and attacked. And Kurt's face as he'd listened to Sebastian's fantasy, the way he squirmed around his obviously hard cock – it had made Sebastian hard just watching him. Fuck, he had a semi right now just thinking about it. There was some serious depth to this Kurt, he was sure. And he'd just walked away. He'd gambled on the hope that his show of confidence would be just the thing Kurt needed to seal the deal.

He sighed and reached for the remote to click off the TV. In darkness lit only by the clock on his microwave he took his beer bottle to the kitchen and dropped it in the bin he kept for recyclables. Kurt, if he was home by now, was certainly jerking himself off to thoughts of Sebastian, and Sebastian figured the least he could do was return the favor. He headed toward his bedroom, the semi in his pants going full-blown in anticipation.

His phone blared, pulling him back to the coffee table to snatch it up. It was a number he didn't recognize. He sucked in a sharp breath and berated his cock for throbbing happily. Probably just somebody selling something. He thumbed it on.

"Hello?"

"Sebastian?"

Sebastian's heart sped to triple time. There was no mistaking that light, high voice. "Yeah?" he asked. His voice came out steady and only mildly inquisitive, despite his heart. After all, what kind of dom would he be if he couldn't control something so simple?

"It's Kurt." Kurt's voice was not at all controlled, Sebastian was happy to note. It was breathy and trembly, like he'd just run a mile. Or had an amazing orgasm. "Kurt from the . . ."

"I know," Sebastian said. "I didn't expect to hear from you until tomorrow. That must have been one hell of an orgasm."

"No," Kurt said.

What? "It . . . wasn't one hell of an orgasm?"

"I didn't have one. An orgasm." _Orgasm_ came out louder than the rest of Kurt's words, like he wasn't quite used to saying it out loud.

"You didn't jerk off?" Sebastian asked. Was he losing his touch? Had he completely misread the situation?

"No, I did." The words came out slow, each its own sentence; Kurt forced them from his mouth one by one.

"Wait, you jerked off but you didn't –" Sebastian began, confused, but then it hit him like a hammer between the eyes and even he couldn't control a tiny gasp. "You didn't come."

"Right."

Sebastian wanted to shout. How had this prickly, bitch-faced boy already managed to exceed his not-inconsiderable expectations? "So why didn't you come?" he asked, gripping the phone tight.

There was a long silence on the other end. Then, "I think the dominant who deserves me would know the answer to that already."

Sebastian laughed quietly, all control. "Nice try. And you're right. But the dominant you deserve would make you say it anyway."

There was a tiny sound Sebastian couldn't interpret. It might have been Kurt whimpering. Then again it might have been his cat sneezing in the background.

"I guess I thought you would like it more if I didn't."

Sebastian decided it was a whimper after all. Kurt's words made his dick throb. But he wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. "And?" he prompted.

Another stretch of silence. "And . . . I might have been trying to impress you."

He was impressed. Mightily. But not done yet. "And?" he said again, making it sharper, trying to sound like the whole process of getting to the bottom of Kurt's motivation was starting to bore him.

"And . . ." it came so quiet and this time a tremble betrayed just how much he was getting to Kurt. "I want to come but I _don't_ want to come more." Kurt dragged it out word by word again, like it hurt to speak.

"There we go," Sebastian said, making sure his voice dripped with approval. On the other end Kurt sighed before he could stop himself. "Next time how about we skip straight to the bottom line?"

"Next time?" Kurt asked.

"I'm beginning to suspect you may be as good as you think you are. In any case, I'm willing to investigate further." There was a sound like a puff of air. Was Kurt laughing at him? It should have made him angry but he found himself smiling instead. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Good. My apartment at noon. I'll text you the address."

"I'll be there," Kurt said, breathy but certain.

"And one more thing. I want to be really clear about this. You don't belong to me," Sebastian paused for effect, "yet. So if you decide not to make yourself come tonight, that's completely on you. I don't really care if you have a dozen orgasms between now and noon tomorrow. In fact, given what you may be walking into, I'd recommend that you do."

"I won't," Kurt said without a hint of hesitation.

Sebastian's smile widened into a full-on, teeth flashing grin. "Good."

Later, in his bed holding his softening dick and still a little light-headed from the force of his orgasm, Sebastian realized that the debate in his head had been won. "Smartest move ever," he told the ceiling with a woozy smile.


End file.
